


Patch (you up) Job

by TheCarrot



Category: Triple Frontier (2019)
Genre: Boys Kissing, Filling in a Scene-Gap, M/M, Medical Procedures, Pope stitches Will up in the Helo, silent communication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:54:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27411523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCarrot/pseuds/TheCarrot
Summary: It’s not the best field aid Santiago’s ever done, the dark and the occasional stuttering frame of the helo making his work uneven; but it will be enough to keep Will from bleeding again until they land.Until they can get him to a real doctor.
Relationships: Santiago "Pope" Garcia/William "Ironhead" Miller
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	Patch (you up) Job

**Author's Note:**

> Always wanted to write this scene... and I guess I finally did, lol! Whenever I'm sad I always come write for these two XD
> 
> This is actually part of the prompt list from my 'kiss me like you mean it' fic I do for these two, but I wanted to post it separately.

Pope is up the moment he sees Benny fall asleep. 

He slides the headset off of his ears, not even bothering to unplug it and leaves them on the seat before silently getting to his feet. Santiago can feel the ache in his knees as he crouches down to gather the garishly white and red box under the seat. Grimacing as he stands back up with the first aid kit in hand, Pope quietly makes his way across the helicopter. 

It’s loud without the headset on, the rotors echoing in the metal cabin, yet blue eyes crack open as he nears regardless. Ironhead’s eyes are glassy with pain, but there’s no surprise at Pope’s nearness there, like Will had known it was him and-- the blond raises an eyebrow up at the other man questioningly cutting into Pope's thoughts. 

Santiago’s lip twitches, careful as he kneels down next to the other man, brown eyes dark and searching as he takes in the gaunt pallor to Will’s skin. He’s not sure if he wants to try grinning reassuringly or grimace at the amount of blood that's soaked into white and tan plaid. The same blood that’s still caked in the lines of his own hands. The same blood that's dried under his fingernails and it makes worry claw at his throat as Pope sets the first aid kit down.

Will shifts in front of him, only before he can fully sit up, Santiago reaches out to stop him. Gloved hand press the wounded man back down and the blonde frowns, glancing around the helo for any sign of trouble. When Will finds none of the others staring back at them, he relaxes, falling back into the uncomfortable seat and shoots the other man a curious look.

With a small shrug, barely seen in the dim light, Santiago strips his gloves off and starts in on removing Ironhead’s kit with careful movements. The whir of the blades hides the rip of velcro but not Will’s wince at it jars the wound beneath. 

“Sorry,” Pope can't help but mutter; voice too low to be heard but he knows Will can read the curve of words on his lips. He sends a silent thank you to Fish for keeping them so steady as he pulls on a pair of rubber gloves from the oddly well stocked first aid kit. The sudden feeling of a hand landing on his shoulder startles Santiago however; dark brown eyes shooting upwards to make sure Will isn’t signalling him to stop-- but Santiago can only frown when Will doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move away from him, just lets those unreadable blue eyes trace over the worried lines of his face and Pope has to tear his eyes away. 

Ironhead sighs, Santiago seeing it in the rise and fall of his chest from the corner of his eye, just before the blond squeezes Popes shoulder. The shorter man takes that for the approval that it is and gets back to work. Fingers deft and light, and Pope finds himself holding his breath as he peels away layers of bloodied shirts and bandages. 

The wound looks awful in the harsh light; angry red and swollen and Santiago grimaces at the sight of it. He’s familiar with wounds on people, has caused enough of them himself, but it doesn’t mean it gets any easier to see them on his teammates. Never gets any easier to see them on Will. 

Pope cuts the bandage away and grabs the antiseptic from the kit. Removing the smear of blood from around the entrance of the wound almost makes it look better... almost. He takes his time with the rest, goes all the way around Will’s hip and back to where the bullet had exited. Only when he’s finished and the pale skin is clean beneath his hands does Pope dare look back up at his friend, just in time to see Will's lips form around the curve of his own name. 

Will’s eyes are almost violet in the dim light and they watch the shorter man with an air of heavy gravity that makes Santiago squirm where he’s kneeling. Conscience half crushed under the weight of the guilt on his shoulders. Guilt that Ironhead can no doubt see. 

The moment spans between them, air warm in the tight space of the helicopter and the burden of millions of broken dreams beneath their feet. A snore to their left startles them apart, Will ripping his grip from Santiago's shoulder to allow the mans hand to fly to his sidearm unhindered. 

Benny snores again, shifting in his seat and curling around the M4 still strapped to his own kit. 

Santiago releases the breath he was holding, tries to make his body relax, all but forcing his fingers away from the metal grip where they're white knuckled and ready to press. It’s not until Ironhead’s hand comes back to rest on the side of his neck that Pope starts to let the tension slide from his frame. His nerves are already frayed, worry for Yovanna and her brother, fear of who might be on their tail after this, anger at Redfly... _the fact they almost missed their out..._

The fact that Will got **shot** because he couldn’t let go of the idea of not letting Lorea live...

Brown eyes jerk away from their youngest team member and Santiago uses his teeth to rip off his dirtied gloves, hands shaking as he reaches for a new pair-- only blunt fingernails dig into the side of his neck and Pope freezes in place. 

In a move that would have Santiago’s instincts flaring with a desperate need to get away with anyone else, Will uses his grip to drag the other man forward. He presses salt and pepper curls into his ribs and Pope lets himself sink into it. Draws in as many steadying breaths as he can; hiding for a short while in the darkness offered by the night outside and the warmth Will always gives off. Santiago inhales sharply as he goes to pull away, can taste the iron of clotting blood on the back of his tongue. Lets that focus him, brings his attention back to what he was doing and Santiago finally lets the rest of tension slide out of his spine. 

Ironhead doesn’t let him up however, and brown eyes glance over to blue, meeting with both words and worry unspoken. It makes a soft smile start to creep onto Santiago’s face. Will’s worry for other people never ceases to amaze him.

“It’s okay, I’m good.” Santiago says, words pressed close and lost to the overheard noise. Yet Will nods like he’s heard it anyways, pale eyes slipping closed and grip loosening allowing Pope to finally slide back. “I've got you.” The older man adds, his promise disappearing into everything else they’ve never allowed the other to hear. 

His hands don’t shake this time when Santiago dives back into the task he had crossed the helo to do. Threading a needle on a helicopter is not easy but he manages it; Will silent and still above him as Santiago brings the curved hook through his skin again and again, only shifting when Pope moves onto the exit wound. 

The repetitive motion is almost soothing, Santiago missing the simple task as soon as he’s finished and he helps Ironhead sit up. Will holds his kit out of the way as Pope re-wraps clean dressings around his waist that will hold the stitches in place, tying it off neatly. It’s not the best field aid Santiago’s ever done, the dark and the occasional stuttering frame of the helo making his work uneven; but it will be enough to keep Will from bleeding again until they land. 

Until they can get him to a real doctor.

Will catches Santiago once more when he makes to stand back up, wraps careful fingers around the other man's wrists just under the gloves, to keep the dark haired man still as he goes to move away. 

Santiago inhales sharply at the touch, heart beat almost as loud in his ears as the rotor blades. There’s another tug, this time on his arms and Santiago can do nothing but follow it forward all over again. Goes with the blond’s insistence until he’s kneeling right between Will’s spread legs; Ironhead looming over him with fire burning in his bright blue eyes. A fire that turns the simmering flame in Santiago’s own veins into something blazing.

It’s nothing for them then to shift close. Inevitable maybe, with the way Will is smirking now, and Santiago is unable to help the long suffering sigh he gives. He can’t pull away now, couldn’t even dream about reaching up and breaking Will’s hold on him. It’s the same inability he’s always had to deny the older Miller brother anything that’s been within his power to give him. 

Ironhead lets go of his wrists, trails his way over dark fabric to cup a stubbled jaw line in his palms, let’s his thumbs brush under tired brown eyes. His own side aches as he leans forward, skin tender where it pulls around the stitches, but the feel of Pope’s lips under his draws his mind from it. Will wants Santiago closer, squeezing his knees tight around Pope's chest to keep him from moving away and trusting in the safety of the darkness to hide them. 

The kiss is full of every worry and half knowing smile shared between them. Will’s lips twisting up the same way they did when he called Pope’s plan stupid, and Santiago bites the mans lower lip in retaliation.

They both know they don’t have longer than a moment for this, but let themselves sink into it while they can. 

Neither of them notice the satisfied smirk Benny buries into the collar of his jacket as he goes back to feigning sleep.


End file.
